


Assembled Here The Volunteers

by Morpheus626



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29763258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheus626/pseuds/Morpheus626
Summary: Set in 1985. A birthday present for one of Brian's kids has him a broken man (because it comes broken into at least fifty pieces that need to be put together, by him, and said pieces refuse to let him do that.)But he has a team of helpers, at least! They won't necessarily make things better per se, but if the present still gets built, isn't it still a victory?TW for what took me out midway through writing this and what I didn’t realize I was writing about until it hit me hard: emotional immaturity in parents and the realization and apologizing for that from said parent, due to the accidental harm it’s caused a child. I may have had a minor breakdown while writing this as a result, and that might show. But I hope folks will enjoy it regardless.
Kudos: 18





	Assembled Here The Volunteers

"If you can put it together, I'll fucking pay you," Brian muttered, gesturing to the play house. "Barely even fits in the fucking yard."

"Breathe," Roger instructed with a smile. "It's one play house, versus four dads."

"Four?"

"Freddie's a dad to his cats," Roger explained, and Brian nodded sagely. "So this can't beat us?"

"Not all of us together," Roger replied. "Tell the kids not to cry, we will have this together within the hour!"

\---

"Thanks for stopping by," Freddie said to what felt like the fortieth guest. For a kid's party, it seemed like entirely too many people; he couldn't have imagined having that many people at a party for himself at that age. 

"Are they alright?" One of the mums asked gently, gesturing to the corner of the yard.John was fussing with the instructions booklet, Roger was kicking at a piece of the play house, and Brian had taken a break to lay facedown in the grass. 

"In a manner of speaking," Freddie replied. "It'll be fine."

She nodded hesitantly as she ushered her child away.

"Daddy looks sad," Louisa tugged at Freddie's shirt. She looked sad too, as it happened, and he couldn't blame her. It wasn't a great fourth birthday, to have your mum and older brother off visiting relatives during it, unable to make it back in time, and then to watch your dad have a minor breakdown over a play house.

"He's not sad," Freddie lied, picking Louisa up as the last few guests left the yard. "He's just tired."

Brian chose that moment to let out an aggravated, weak shout as he sat back up, and Freddie winced as Louisa immediately fell against his shoulder in tears.

"None of that on your birthday," Freddie said softly, walking away from the increasingly loud grumbling from his overly frustrated bandmates. "They'll have that put together soon enough, and things will be better."

"I can help," she offered miserably, and wriggled out of his arms, racing back towards the scene at the barely-put-together play house. 

"I don't know about that," Freddie sighed, but followed after her. 

She had a piece of it in her hands, nearly as big as she was, and was trying to hand it to Roger. "It's a wall!"

"We know sweetheart, but the wall doesn't want to stay where we put it," Roger said, only half paying attention to her as he fussed with what looked like roof tiling. 

"Because you need the floor!" Louisa cried, sounding not unlike her father in tone and level of frustration. She slapped at Brian's leg until he moved away from the pile of pieces, and started to grab and lock parts together as best she could. 

"No," Brian laughed. "It's not that simple."

"Looks like it might be," Freddie nodded towards Louisa's progress. "Sure we weren't overthinking it a little?"

"It's a house, you can't overthink how to put together a house," John scoffed.

"Give it!" Louisa grumbled, yanking the small hammer that had come with the kit out of John's hands. 

"Ask nicely," Brian scolded. 

"Give it, please," she repeated sarcastically, and Brian's scolding turned to the three of them as they giggled.

"Don't encourage her," Brian mumbled. 

"From what, going into construction?" Roger asked. "Of course we should encourage that, she's clearly got a mind for it."

"Move please," Louisa tapped at Roger's leg as she retrieved more pieces from where they sat at his feet. The house had a floor, and a wall, and she was only ten minutes into her attempt at constructing it. 

"You want help?" Roger asked her gently. 

"Are you gonna really help?" she spat back, and there was no hiding their laughter at that.

"I have been pretty useless at this, haven't I?" Roger giggled. "How about you tell me what to do?"

Louisa rolled her eyes, but handed him a piece. "See the wall? Put this on it."

"Your daughter now thinks I'm the biggest moron to walk this Earth," Roger smiled. 

"No,"Louisa protested. "You all did a bad job."

"No beating around the bush, hm?" John tutted. "We should bring her in the studio. Can't go wrong with a little 'this is good or this is shit' meter." 

"Hold this," Louisa instructed John, as she started to layer parts of the plastic roof tiles together, starting with the one he was holding. "Freddie!" 

He strode over, eager to see how she might call him into service. 

"Can I have a snack?" she asked sweetly.

"Why are you asking him and not me?" Brian laughed. "Dad is the one here who can say yes or no to snacks!"

Louisa gave him a look, then turned back to Freddie expectantly. 

"Think you've been demoted," Freddie giggled to Brian. "Sorry about that, but it's out of my hands."

"She's four!" 

"And the foreman of this site, and it's her birthday as well," Freddie said. "I don't know who else I'm supposed to listen to, if not her."

"Please?" Louisa yanked at his shirt. "Birthday cake?"

"It's your cake, of course you can have more!"

"That's so much sugar," Brian hissed. "She'll never sleep!"

"She's been working hard on this, sure she'll sleep," Freddie said as he started towards the house for her cake. "Won't you, Louisa?"

She shrugged and giggled and looked back to John. "The roof is done! Put it on!"

"Oh goodness, sorry," John laughed. "I'm going to get myself fired." 

"I finished the walls at least," Roger noted. "That should have been your cue, I think."

"Well you could have said you'd finished them!"

"You have eyes, don't you?"

"No shouting!" Louisa shouted as she took the offered plate of cake from Freddie. "Thank you."

"You're welcome; this is the best," Freddie smirked. "Your dad-"

"Has given up, because I have completely lost control of this," Brian interrupted, flopping back onto the lawn. 

Louisa frowned, handed Freddie the plate back, and rushed over to Brian. "Get up!"

"The house is done," John offered. "You could go in it now."

“You go in it!” Louisa shouted. “Daddy’s sad!” 

John shrugged, and crawled into the playhouse, banging his hip on the plastic door. “It’s nice!” 

Louisa wasn’t paying attention though. She’d flopped onto Brian’s chest, wrapping her arms around him. “Don’t be sad anymore; I fixed it!” 

John crawled back out of the house into the tense silence, and they watched as Brian slowly sat up, with Louisa in his arms. 

“What do you mean?” 

“The house made you sad, so I fixed it,” Louisa whined. “You’re still sad; you aren’t supposed to be sad anymore!” 

“You...” Brian hesitated. “You know you don’t have to worry about whether I’m sad or not, right?” 

“Yes I do!” she protested. 

“No,” Brian shook his head. “You don’t. Only I have to worry about that. You worry about playing and having fun...and your cake, remember?” 

Freddie held up the plate, but she didn’t so much as turn her head. 

“You and Mummy are always sad,” Louisa mumbled. “I wanted to help. I’m a good helper, you said that!” 

“Oh boy,” Roger hissed under his breath. “Brian, shall John and I go in and clean things up for you?” 

“Sure,” Brian nodded, but tears glittered at the corners of his eyes. “Thanks.” 

“I’ll go-” Freddie started. 

“No,” Louisa interrupted. “Stay.” 

“But...” Freddie stammered. “Okay, fine. I don’t know why, but fine.” 

“You make Daddy happy,” Louisa said, in a tone that suggested he had to be an idiot not to realize that.

“Okay,” Brian sighed. “I owe you an apology, sweetheart.” 

“Why?” 

“Because you shouldn’t ever have had to feel like this,” Brian continued. “It isn’t your job to worry about me and Mum, no matter how we’re feeling.” 

“But-” 

“Oh, she’s so much like you,” Freddie murmured.

“Yeah,” Brian sighed. “Yeah, she is. I get it, sweetheart, I do. You’ve been feeling like you should be able to help make us happy again, right?” 

Louisa nodded. 

“And if you can’t do that, then it must be your fault?” Brian’s voice finally cracked, and the tears fell faster than he could wipe them away. 

She nodded again, sniffling herself. 

“I don’t know how you got that into your head, but I want you to know,” Brian said. “It’s never your fault. Not ever. Grown ups get sad for so many reasons, so many stupid reasons. But none of that is your fault, and it isn’t your fault if we seem sad a lot. It’s just stupid grown up things, I promise.” 

Freddie watched tentatively; he could see the wheels turning in her head. It was like watching Brian mull something over, in miniature, right down to the wrinkled forehead. 

“My present didn’t make you sad?” 

“No!” Brian laughed. “No, I was sad because I couldn’t figure it out, but the present itself didn’t make me sad. I’m happy you have it, I just felt silly I was having trouble with it. And that was sillier still, because look! We got help, and we didn’t even need it! You figured most of it out yourself.” 

“My birthday didn’t make you sad?” 

“No,” Brian hugged her tightly. “Your birthday could never make me sad. Nothing about you could make me sad, my being sad or upset isn’t your fault or your job to help me with. And I should have seen that and realized how you were feeling, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Louisa pressed a kiss to his cheek, and for a moment, Freddie could feel the tension slip. 

“It isn’t,” Brian said, and the tension filled the air again, but blessedly only for a moment. “But I’m going to make sure it doesn’t happen again, okay? I’m going to be more careful, so you don’t ever have to feel like you need to look after me like that. I’m your dad; I’m supposed to look after you, not the other way around! So you let me look after you, no matter how I’m feeling, and if you ever feel like this again, you tell me straight away.” 

She nodded, but hesitantly. 

“He means it,” Freddie offered. “That’s what dads are supposed to do. Look after you, and apologize if they mess up.” 

He swallowed down his own feelings, that hit like a train. There wasn’t time for those, however. Not right now. 

“Okay,” Louisa smiled and wrapped Brian in a tight hug, and the tension finally dissipated completely. 

“I think,” Brian stood up with a groan, hanging on to Louisa as he moved. “We should go in, and you finish your piece of cake while we finish cleaning up. “ 

“I can help,” Louisa said softly. 

“After your cake, and only if there’s anything left to clean up,” Brian said. “But thank you for offering.” 

“Meet us inside?” Brian asked as he took the plate from Freddie. 

“Yeah,” Freddie nodded. “There’s tools all over the grass yet. I’ll get those and bring them in.” 

The look they shared let him know Brian understood. He needed the moment alone. 

“What a fucking mess,” Freddie tutted as he wrangled tools from the lawn. “And all your fault, you know that?” 

The play house, being a play house, said nothing in reply. 

“And yet, it was a good thing,” Freddie continued. “What a fucking party.” 

The play house stood silent, except for a lone roof tile that slid off. 

He replaced the tile, and headed inside. The night wasn’t quite over yet. 


End file.
